


Mechanical Hearts

by anastasiaclaire



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Other, Red Room (Marvel), Smut, The Red Room, because buckynat is best and canon and, im not sorry, im obsessed with it, please appreciate the red room vibe, rip sof, romance eventually, the red room is horrible, torture :), you will be missed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-09-23 04:02:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20333725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiaclaire/pseuds/anastasiaclaire
Summary: Some insight into the life of Natalia and James within the Red Room. Progressive romance. ;) I love them??





	1. Chapter 1

“Please” was what she knew would never come from her mouth, dripping off her tongue like a denial of her own heart which had been beaten and bent into a single form; one she could not change. But she wanted to. She craved to beg, plead, cry, and scream. 

A chain dragged in front of her, at the same time she forced her head to tilt up, hair falling around her shoulders and into her eyes. The expression she wore was something of disgust mixed with a defiant glare. Her teeth were clamped together instantly as she felt the chain quickly coming down on her lower abdomen, the only reaction she had was a slight jerk in her muscles; an involuntary movement. 

The Widow looked pretty roughed up already. Plenty bruises scattered along her unblemished and otherwise perfect silky skin, and there were a few gashes here and there; coming from whenever her torturer got bored enough with her unemotional responses to inflict enough pain that she had no choice but to scream. One of the gashes, went in a perfect line from her hip to her knee, and it dripped blood down her leg, off her toes, and started pooling on the concrete floor below her. 

With a scowl, the taller man standing in front of her looked her up and down. Disdain was on his face, and it was clear. “Your punishment is over, Widow.” came his gruff voice as he slammed the knife he had replaced the chain with into the rope holding her wrists above her head. “Go wash up, and clean your wounds. Training will be the usual time. I expect you there not a second later.” He said unemotionally, despite the foreign emotion that bubbled in his chest as he saw her go slack and sink to the floor. Then, he turned and headed out the door. 

Natalia Romanova, the redhead who was now in a pool of blood on the glossed concrete floor, looked up. Her eyes seemed cruelly glued to the man as he left. The man, she referred to as Instructor; she didn’t know his real name; or if he even had one. Whatever it was, the Widow imagined it would be a strong name. A name to fear. There was just something about him, that made her know he had many layers besides the one he showed; which was the unfeeling, mission-driven Asset. Sometimes, if his eyes caught the light just right, she could see a softness to him that no machine would be able to hold. 

The Widow thought back to what had gotten her here. Misconduct, or what the Red Room counted as such. She had slipped in training and hit the mat; a detrimental mistake, usually even fatal. But she had recovered, and managed to claw her way to survival until the hour was over, and she was released. It was only an hour later that she was dragged off by a guard, and taken to a room across the campus. 

It had been hours that she was there. Maybe four, maybe six, she couldn’t think straight enough to tell. 

As her breathing slowed, and she gained back her mind which had been in a haze of pain, she forced herself (very slowly) to her feet. Pain immediately shot through her whole body, her leg being the area with the strongest sensation. Once she fully noticed the blood, she moved to the medical equipment that was set on a table against the outer wall of the room. The space between her and the table seemed like miles although it was only a few feet. 

Her mind raced as she patched her wounds, tears welling up in her eyes as she stitched through the ripped flesh, the pain almost overwhelming. But she was strong; and she was taught to handle such pain. She did it well. 

After a little while of recovering, Natalia stood and looked over the room. Broken ropes covered in blood at the top of a wooden pole, and at the bottom of the pole lay a pool of blood. Then a trail of the same crimson substance going to where she stood. Scattered around here were bloody cloths, gauze, and thread. The needle she had set on the table, the rest would be cleaned up by someone else. 

Her main concern was making it to training. She had to shower and manage to make herself relatively presentable; while also recovering enough strength to go straight back into physical training, and all within a few hours. 

But that was common, for Natalia. She knew nothing else.  
Nothing but what the Red Room taught her.


	2. Chapter 2

It was late, the day after Natalia had been persecuted and trained endlessly afterwards. Safe to suggest, she was sore. That didn’t stop her from having to train that day and even having to attend another training session that she was appointed for that night, with her Instructor. She quickly figured out what it was. 

“Instructor!” Natalia moaned out, rocking her hips at a consistent pace, pleasure contorted onto her features and lip caught between her teeth. “Mmh! Oh, my God..” The Widow exclaimed. 

The man below her frowned. “Natalia. You are very mechanical. Move more fluidly.” He critiqued, metal hand coming up to grip and influence her hip, attempting to guide her to move more slow and fluid. “No man will remember you apart from everyone else; if you don’t learn how to be better than them.” He said, voice gruff. 

The redhead’s gaze shifted from being contorted with pleasure to being very indignant. “It is an automatic act.” Natalia argued. It was, to her. Sex seemed like only a tool to get what she wanted, and how she saw it, all tools were mechanical. To that, the Instructor shook his head. 

“No, Natalia. It is not.” He spoke, eyes locking onto hers, preditory and stern. Both of his hands lifted to each side of her waist and he went on in his attempt to adjust her movements, to no avail. Irritated, he cursed under his breath. In no time, the man had her flipped onto her back, still inside of her and after a second he started moving almost exactly how he wished her to. Slow thrusts that concluded with a snap of his hips. Rather than only moving his hips, as well, he moved his whole body, back arching, and bracing himself with one hand beside her head. 

When the switch happened, Natalia’s eyes had widened. It was a surprise, and something that didn’t happen often. Most commonly the Asset only coached her; he never showed her how this way. Her initial response (after a few moments) was to writhe and push at his chest, almost uncomfortable with how good it felt. In response to the struggle, the Instructor pinned her wrists above her head with his free hand. “I am trying to instruct you, Widow. If you do not learn, you do not graduate. If you do not graduate, you do not live. Would you prefer to die?” He asked bitterly. 

“No.” The Widow breathed, vibrating slightly at the threat. He frightened her, very much. In this position, the wound on her side ached, and between that and the pleasure, a gentle whine escaped her. The Instructor responded by digging a few metal fingertips into the delicate skin of her wrist, causing her to bite back a yelp and roll her hips up; giving in more effort as to not be criticized again, or worse. 

Something about this moment; it made Natalia’s head spin, for some reason. He was only teaching her, she had to assure herself of that multiple times. 

For a second, she saw something flash in his icy gray eyes that made her think he was assuring himself of the exact same thing, but she told herself that was a far fetched hope. ‘Hope?’ She thought, frowning a bit while she was having her inner dialogue, trying to convince herself that even if he was doing this for a reason other than just to teach her, she would have no part in that. It was immensely unprofessional, and punishment worthy. He could even be killed. Not that she was willing to admit to herself she would care if he was killed. 

Noticing how distracted her eyes were, he snapped his hips forward at a painful force, causing the Widow’s body to jolt. “Focus, act like you enjoy it. What do you think you are here for?” He snapped. 

With wide eyes, she nodded, with no will to argue and get hurt worse than a rough thrust of his hips. “Yes, sir.” The girl said quietly, gathering her thoughts again and rolling her hips slowly, arching her back into it much to the Instructor’s approval. 

The two of them were already very close to their release. 

”Good.” He purred wantonly, starting to increase his pace. He was pleased with how she was doing now, moving her body with his, her expression which could get any average man to cum immediately. He decided to increase the intensity, his hand releasing her wrists, and he decided to try something he hadn’t before. At the same time as his thrusts, his hand came down to rub a light circle over her clit. This earned a curse from the Widow, which was promptly reprimanded by another hard thrust.  


‘Widows should know how to hold their tongues.’ Rang the Madame’s voice in her head. ‘If you can not control your exclamations you can not control your emotions, if you can not control your emotions, you can not kill. If you can not kill you will die.’ 

Natalia then behaved once more, growing accustomed to the touches and letting out a wanton moan; slow and sultry. 

The noise, for some reason, had the Instructor’s attention more than it should have. With a frown, something seemed to take him over as he leaned down and placed a heavy kiss to her lips. This wasn’t something that ever happened; in fact, it wasn’t allowed; Which was what confused Natalia the most. 

But she accepted it nonetheless, kissing back with just as much passion. Her reaction seemed to tip the both of them over the edge; a low grunt from the Instructor, and a light hum from Natalia, both at the same time. 

For a few seconds, all they did was stay how they were. The Instructor’s forehead was tilted against hers, still inside her, and his hand resting on her hip; the other hand still holding him up. 

Confused, Natalia reached out to place a hand against his chest. The Instructor’s eyes snapped open, cool gray meeting her shining green eyes. “D-, for today. You are mechanical. You get easily distracted, and you easily give into pleasure.”

This earned a frown from the redhead, unhappy with the change in his eyes from what looked like emotion back to empty, and cold. “Yes, sir.” She grumbled, and whined when he pulled out. 

Just like that, he was off of her, warmth replaced by cool air as she sat up. She watched him as he pulled on his underwear and pants like he hadn’t just.. fucked her. It was frustrating; but it was him. He looked up to find her staring, and immediately she looked away. He chose not to comment on it, however, and simply walked out of the room, not even bothering to throw his shirt on. He didn’t have to. 

She did.  
Natalia stayed and dressed alone. Noticeably alone.  
But there was a little thought in the back of her head that kept her from being upset. If he had to immediately deflect his actions, instead of owning up to them.. they must have meant something.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day would have been awkward for the both of them, if they could feel such things. Translation; undertones of awkwardness and slight aggression. Natalia was mad at him for brushing off what happened, and the Instructor was mad at Natalia for.. well, being so enticing. 

The day had gone on as it normally did, training was as usual, besides a few strange looks, James was normal. Much to Natalia’s disappointment.. or relief? She knew she should be relieved but she had hoped what happened might change things just a little. 

She came to find out they did. Just a ways under the surface. 

Natalia found this out mid-day, when she was in the dance studio. She was working on a few things for ballet, seeing as she had a performance coming up; which she had a significant role in. But that was no surprise, she was the star student. In the middle of a plié , her eye caught the mirror. Behind her in the doorway was her Instructor’s tall figure, arms crossed and leaning on the door frame. She stopped all movement. His expression was predatory. 

They stood and considered each other for a moment. Natalia’s eyes searching for a hint at what her Instructor’s eyes were searching for. He frowned, and she tilted her head. 

Quickly she saw that he was striding toward her, internal conflict very clear on his face. He didn’t stop once, flesh hand reaching out and roughly turning her towards him. Giving her no time to argue, his lips crashed against hers in a bruising and demanding kiss. There was no way he could play that off as a lesson. 

After a few (dozen) seconds of letting herself get used to the sensation of his lips moving against hers, she pulled back a little. The Instructor was very unhappy about this, but he waited to see what she had to say. Natalia was baffled, and simply shook her head. By now she opted not to address the fact that he had just kissed her, and passionately, but instead she reminded him of the risk. She was smarter than to let them both get killed over some sexual tension. 

“Now, you know that’s not allowed.” The Widow said, and earned a look of disdain from the Instructor. As if he was offended at the notion she had to remind him of the rules he had taught her. He simply shook his head and leaned down to catch her lips in another kiss. She shut up and simply enjoyed it, hands leaning on the barre behind her. She knew she shouldn’t touch him. Not without permission. 

After a little while longer, the Instructor pushed his body closer, making it clear he had an intent to further what they were doing. That was about the time that another Widow walked into the room. Quickly, in a panic, he attempted to save the situation by delivering a hard slap to Natalia’s cheek. “I told you, Widow. Your form is sloppy. Straighten your legs, now.” He scolded darkly. 

Aria, who had walked in on them, hadn’t noticed the scene in front of her. Her nose had been in a book until she heard the smack, and her Instructor’s reprimand, causing her to jump. Her eyes widened as she saw what was happening, and when the Instructor’s eyes caught hers, she ducked her head and left the room without another word. She knew not to interrupt another Widow getting punished. 

The Instructor was relieved, but Natalia was shocked. Her expression blank, confused at best. Realizing his mistake, he reached out to touch her but she boldly pulled away; slipping away from between him and the barre gracefully.

He started to speak, but didn’t know what to say. So, he left it at that as Natalia simply turned and left the room. She went back to the girls’ room and sat on her bed. There was a frown on her face. She understood why he had done what he did but somehow it still hurt a little. And not just because of the stinging red mark on her cheek. 

The Instructor seemed like he had been.. being easier on her in training. Maybe. She caught many more glances from him than she usually did. He fucked her, and he just kissed her. Though she rules out the possibility of feelings. She had to, he was the one who trained her that attachments like that compromise your mission. He was the one who told her love is for children. 

Now that she was in her room, her dog, Sofie walked up to her and gave a little whine. Sofie always had a talent for noticing when Natalia was upset. 

All the girls had gotten puppies to work with and train when they were just thirteen. Natalia was nineteen now, and not-so-little Sofie was six years old. She was a loyal thing, a lap dog despite being 59 pounds and trained to kill almost as well as Natalia was. 

“Oh, Sof.” Natalia cooed, reaching forward to stroke the Australian Shepherd’s nose. In return, Sofie pushed closer and collapsed with a huff by her feet. The Widow gave a little smile. 

“It’ll be okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay so a warning, this one's short and sad. I had to break up the next chapter into two pieces because it was such a Huge Mood Change.   
But it's really sad, and involves the death of a pet, so if you'd prefer to skip ahead to the next chapter I made it so that things will still make sense <3 enjoy

The next few days had gone pretty well. The Instructor made no moves on her, Madame B. seemed to be going pretty easy on her, and overall it was just going pretty well.

Her and her friend Yelena decided to go just outside the building to spar; which was allowed, and even encouraged. Natalia and Yelena were both laughing and chatting as they threw meaningless punches and kicks toward each other, really just warming up for training later. 

That was until Yelena accidentally did hit her, and out of surprise, she fell to the ground with a yelp. “Lena!” She complained, and as she looked up something rushed past her and toward Yelena. In a daze she looked to her side and by the door where her dog had been lying. Eyes widening, she turned to Yelena. “Sofie, no!” She cried, but she was far too late at that point. 

The trauma that happened after that was a blur. 

Yelena was fine, only a few bites and claw marks from the dog. But the Red Room did not take kindly to insubordination from student or canine. The Red Room also liked to take opportunities to teach their Widows a lesson, which was why when Sof left, the gun was in Natalia’s hand. Six years erased by the squeeze of a trigger. 

Natalia hadn’t come out of her room unless she had to. She didn’t show any emotion during training, and barely ate. She barely slept, and became a being of untamed irritation; just waiting for someone to give her a reason to show them just why she was the star student. 

The Instructor had grown concerned, while Madame B. grew pleased. She thought it was a good look on Natalia; determination. Untamed rage but with enough control to focus it and not be sloppy. Her kicks were harder, her insults meaner and her face stone cold. That was just how Madame B. wanted her. To be the perfect girl, and the perfect assassin.


	5. Chapter 5

The Instructor was constantly trying to console her in some way after what happened, but nothing really worked. Eventually he just gave up and left it to time. 

Which six days later, seemed to have worked. 

That was when he heard a knock on his door. And when he opened it, it revealed Natalia. Shorts and a T-shirt, hair down and around her shoulders and tears all down her face. “Oh, malen'kiy pauk..” He said, ushering her in as she tried to dry her face. 

She knew it wasn’t the best idea, knocking on his door at 3am after she had a nightmare. It was childish, and weak, and possibly a death wish. But he didn’t seem to mind all that much. In fact he seemed to welcome her, a soft touch to her elbow guiding her to sit at the edge of the bed as he fetched her a bottle of water. “Here, drink.” He ordered as he handed it to her, feeling her forehead just in case, and using it as an excuse to brush her bangs out of her face.

She appreciated the touch, looking up at him with shimmering green eyes; full of admiration and want. He could have sworn it knocked the air right out of him. 

“It’s okay.” The Instructor assured. She didn’t believe him, but she feigned a smile for his sake. 

They just stayed there for a little while, Natalia slowly sipping the water he gave her as she enjoyed his soft touches to her head, brushing her hair away from her face, carding his fingers through her hair. It was so natural, somehow, that she didn’t even realize it was happening. That her Instructor was soothing her so intimately, that he had ushered her right in instead of reprimanding her for disturbing him. Once she realized it, she looked up at him only to see that he had already been looking down at her. 

“It’s not allowed.” The Widow said quietly, and his reply was a gentle shake of the head. She couldn’t tell if he was agreeing or if he was telling her he didn’t care. Or both. It was probably both.

She sighed and gave him a meaningful look. It was willing, but scared. Before she could realize it, the water bottle was out of her hand and on the nightstand. The Instructor was pushing on her shoulders, and light as air she felt her back hit the comforter on his bed. Just like that, he was hovering over her, knee resting on the edge of the bed between her legs and propping himself up with his hands above her shoulders. 

“You’re gorgeous. Dangerous and.. deadly. And gorgeous.” He murmured, eyes locked onto hers and she could do nothing to change that. She couldn’t look away as his head dipped down to place a sharp bite to the delicate skin of her neck, causing her to gasp. 

Praises coming from his lips in such an abundance wasn’t something she was used to. Or something she ever expected to be used to. She didn’t have any idea how much she had needed it, though. “Instructor..” She murmured and he cut her off.

“James.” He said against the skin of her neck between short kisses. “It’s James. That’s what the papers say. Call me that when we’re in private.” He said and she nodded, her eyes wide at the notion he had shared something like that with her. Something she was likely not supposed to know. 

“James, then..” She said, liking the way it tasted on her tongue. “It suits you. Strong and simple, but very handsome.” The Widow said with a happy glint in her eye. James nodded and leaned to kiss her lips. After a few minutes of that, he rolled them over so that Natalia was on top. 

It was the second she leaned her head back and rolled her hips, James resigned to the fate of being there all night. And he didn’t mind in the slightest.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter and the fact that it's so late 😭

The next morning, they awoke with a jump. Madame B. had kicked the bedpost and as trained they easily woke up. Being a light sleeper was a certain type of requirement around the Red Room.

"You're going on a trip, Natalia." She said to the redhead while she sat up, wrapping the sheets around her bare upper torso.

James had been immediately tense once she entered, but he soon realized the position they were in was normal. He trained her, sexually, quite often, so this was nothing new.

Natalia nodded, and so did James. The two knew not to ask any questions, or even talk directly to her unless asked a non-rhetorical question. 

"You will be ready to leave in six hours. Do not pack anything." Madame B. continued. "Be prompt or there will be devastating repercussions." The Madame finished and gave the two a stern look before turning on her heel and exiting the room.

"A trip," James repeated, trying to wrap his head around it. He knew that couldn't mean anything good, and he protectively wrapped an arm around her waist. 

His movements made Natalia frown, confused as to why he was showing so much affection as of late. Sure they had slept together quite a few times now, outside of training. They had a few emotional conversations. But Natalia was never taught how to love, just how to feign it. "James.." She mumbled, leaning back against him and tilting her head toward him so her face was nuzzled against his neck. "It'll be okay, Dekta. I'm strong." She said against his skin, and a little sigh came from the man. It had helped, though. Her words we're good at soothing him.

"I know you are strong, Natya, but the Red Room is evil. They try to kill you. I prefer it when you are in my own charge." James said to her, quietly, as if it was a secret. She peppered a few kisses to his neck and hummed her agreement. 

"I know, Yasha. I know."


End file.
